Glad
by Elle954
Summary: ONESHOT. CraigManny. She needs the way he touches her, holds her close and kisses her neck... [During Holiday]. M for sexual content.


AUTHORS NOTE: this takes place during Holiday, in the infamous garage makeout scene. I rewrote the actual dialogue between Craig and Manny, and what actually takes place. Cranny rocks because we get the passion AND the sex, and its about time someone showed that. Also, "Glad" is an amazing song by Tyler Hilton.

**Glad **– ONE SHOT

She sat on the freezing blue fabric impatiently, shifting her feet amongst each other. She glanced at the coca-cola clock at the farthest end of the garage, squinting through the half-lit garage, fades of lime green and hot pink from streamed lights producing a small glare on the cursive numbers.

"**Everywhere you go, perfection – follows you in the wrong direction…"**

She rubbed her mittens together, fixing the long balls of yarn dangling at her delicate wrists. After hearing a squeak at the rusty wooden door she turned around on the couch, biting her lip in anticipation, just to nervously realize that it was nothing but the cold winter air.

Again she propped her elbow on the armrest, popping her flavorless gum tirelessly.

She didn't know why she was there, waiting for him like his puppy dog. But she couldn't control it. She couldn't control craving the taste of his crackled lips, the tickling sensation of his long and thin hands on her hips, the way he always smelled liked brisk aftershave and spice.

Again the door swung open, this time by none other than the tall slender male himself, rubbing his hands together for warmth as he safely shut the door behind him.

"You're late, and I'm freezing. So, I think you need to warm me up," She purred, walking towards him.

"That, I can do," he smiled. He grabbed her by the waist firmly, reeling her in like the frail being that she was. Roughly her body slammed against his, feeling every curve of her body fit into him like a lost puzzle piece.

A lost puzzle piece that for him, brought back the familiar feeling of large breasts pressed against his lower chest, and the sweet taste of innocent lips. She was so different. Different that any other girl he could ever be with.

With his hand he titled her chin towards his face, taking a moment to soak in the electricity of her sultry brown eyes.

With one hand still in the small of her back she felt weak and feeble, a helpless slave to his love. She needed it, she craved it. She would not stop until he was hers.

He kissed her long and intensely, spinning her in circles around the garage, quickly rotating the positions of his hands around her body. He swiftly moved his hands in all the places around her body that made her feel gorgeous, sending shivers down her spine that were only unique enough to be sent by him. Somewhere in her mind she convinced herself that he never would touch his girlfriend the way he was touching her.

The feeling of his crackled lips scratched hers hard and jaggedly – yet she didn't care. She tugged off of them just as roughly, biting his bottom lip all the way to the corner.

"You know, Christmas is coming up," she said, leaving his lips on her neck as she broke herself from her trance. She was momentarily destroying their passion, and for one moment she wanted to hear what she'd been waiting for.

"Yep," he mumbled silently, the muffled sound echoing from the side of her neck, as he nibbled delicately on her salty skin.

"And, there's only one thing I want," she said powerfully, grazing her hand across his lower face, pushing him off her.

He broke away for a moment, taking a small step back and staring at her vividly, yet with a lighthearted smile.

Those eyes could melt her soul, the way they piercingly tugged on her heartstrings, toyed with her emotions from the conveyance of one look from the defined, mature characteristics of his face. The way the tacky lighting of the Christmas lights cherubically shined on his face didn't help either. She convinced herself though that she would be strong, and that she would not let anything get in the way of having him all for herself, all the time, whenever she wanted.

"**_And on your list of things to do, is make me fall in love with you…"_**

"Diamonds?" he said, giving her quick kiss on the lips.

"Chihuahua?" he said, puckering his lips, trying to give her another kiss, allotted only so much time before her hand hit his chest in repression.

"I want you to break up with Ashley," she said strongly, yet smiling in attempts to lighten the mood.

Suddenly, his look of brilliance faded into a deep, dark hole, where their passion never existed – where it was nothing but a false dream she wished to make a reality. And though she looked beautiful, glowing beneath the mixed lighting, even her glow of innocence and beauty could not bring him to muster the words she wanted to hear, though they vibrated on his lips like a song trying to escape.

"I can't make that decision…"

"I think you already did," she frowned, turning her back towards him. She strutted robotically towards the door, tears welling in her eyes as she realized her heart was shattering with every word he spoke.

"Manny, wait!" he shouted, running over to the door, blockading it with his arms. "You can't leave. You just…can't," he said, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

Damn him. Damn him for using those gorgeous eyes to convince her. Damn him for being so attractive that she felt into his trap every time.

"_**You said your life needed something special, which you don't have…"**_

"I love you, okay?" he said, hoping she would raise her tear stained eyes to look at him, even if it was just for a moment. "Hey, I do, I do, c'mon," he said, bringing her into his chest. He cradled her for a moment, the bottom of his chin smashed again the top of her head.

"Nobody is quite like you Manny," he lied. But she was gorgeous. And she was everything he wished his girlfriend could be…at some times.

And it worked. His words floated through her mind like a drug, repeating over and over like a broken record player.

Somewhere inside her, she forgave him. Because he was her reason for waking in the morning.

Somewhere inside him, he felt no guilt. Because she was the reason he exploded with passion whenever he saw her. And even if it meant having her this way, he would cease the opportunity, because he could never say no.

She leaned in and kissed lustfully, feeling his tongue trace nonsymmetrical patterns inside her mouth. She struggled to tear her North face jacket off, never parting her lips from his as she struggled to release each of her arms from the thick layers that trapped her.

He roamed his hands over her curvaceous body, sinking into her skin the hotness of his hands that were burning with desire to have her at that moment.

She felt his hot hands travel freely up her shirt, grabbing her breasts freely.

She roved her smooth hands through the curls of his hair, tilting her head back as he kissed her neck and felt his hands underneath her burn her by each stroke.

He slowly laid her down on the couch, positioning himself against her slim frame. She was meek and helpless, feeling every limb and control of her own body become his as he gingerly tucked a curly tendril behind her ears. Nerves and tingles shot through her body as he removed her pants, the way he lingered at her sides, her hips…she was numb and helpless.

She gently undid his vintage-style belt, unsure where his hands were at that moment. She disattached herself from his kiss, and they both stopped to watch her callous fingers throw his belt to the ground.

Within minutes they both lye naked on the couch – exploring each other dangerously, stretching out every moment until it no longer could live.

"**Now you got it bad, I know you do…"**

He entered her carefully, and she breathed silently and slowly as she stared at the snowflakes brush the frozen windowsill, searching for anything to grasp a look at it that didn't involve staring into his dark and emotional eyes.

Yet she loved the way he felt inside her – sending chills down her back and rushes of blood that lasted minutes and made her shriek in delight. He was a vivacious and tender lover, and the nights she spent awake and crying always would bring her back to a memory of this very moment that would somehow remind her that every tearstained pillowcase was worth it.

And he endured the silent pain of her small hands rawly clawing his curls in ecstasy. Every minute or so he'd risk a glance at her porcelain face, which was soothed over with shut eyes and overcome with sweat and rosy cheeks.

He was her safety net. And somehow, he had convinced her that he loved her. And she believed him.

She was everything he couldn't get in Ashley. She was beautiful, steamy, young sex. And it would wrong for him to use her – yet he did.

And it would be wrong for her to think he was for real, and she didn't. To be beautiful and used – and to somewhere think it was okay.

They both would get what they wanted…again. And wake tomorrow in an awkwardness that reeked with the afterglow of passionate sex. He would shuffle her out nervously, and she would begin to cry as she picked her shirt up off the ground.

But right now, this was exactly how they wanted each other.

"_**You said your life couldn't get much better….**_

**_Well, here I am…aren't you glad?"_**


End file.
